


It's Pronounced "Eye-gor"

by Wand_of_Thunder



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy is totally Jane's Igor, Drabble, F/M, Halloween, Movie Bucky dressed as comic Bucky, Young Frankenstein, just imagine the tights, lighthearted Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8446207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wand_of_Thunder/pseuds/Wand_of_Thunder
Summary: Darcy finds herself pigeonholed as the kooky lab assistant, and Bucky somehow gets stuck wearing tights.For the children.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated Halloween!
> 
> I mean't to post this little drabble yesterday before I helped my best friend take her monsters trick or treating, but cox cable decided to fuck up and shut off my internet. C'est la vie.

 

Once a year, every year since their inception, when the leaves started to change and the air started to nip and the pumpkin spice flavoring started to reassert its dominance over North America, the Avengers held a halloween festival out at the Stark family mansion for sick and at-risk kids.

And once a year, every goddamn year since Thor invited her and Jane into the superhero fold, Darcy Lewis was stuck dressing up as the genderbent Igor to her boss’s Dr. Victoria Frankenstein for the mad scientist laboratory room of the not-so-haunted house.

It wasn’t a _terrible_ gig; the kids always loved their goofy, hands-on experiments and usually found her overexaggerated, limping gait paired with the googly eye glasses she donned hilarious -facts that never failed to bring the warm and fuzzies despite the late October chill. But it was far from glamorous. The hooded robe itched, her back always ached from being hunched over for hours on end, and there were only so many failed “Young Frankenstein” jokes a woman could make before just becoming hopelessly depressed for today’s youth.

For just one year, one measly little day, Darcy wished she was Wanda Maximoff. The Scarlet Witch got to dress up as well...a _witch_ every year and perform cute, candy-related magic tricks for the enthralled hoards of children. And while the act itself was almost always the highlight of the night, second maybe to Tony’s firework finale, it was the costume that Darcy envied the most. Wanda got to wear this gorgeously spooky, blood red, crushed velvet dress with bell sleeves and a web-embroidered corset bodice that made Darcy’s inner 13 year old ren-faire attending, Lydia Deetz idolizing self violently twitch with jealousy.  

Compared to that dress, the black, tattered robe and leggings of her costume might as well have been a plastic trash bag. It really wasn’t fair. But, alas, the festival wasn’t about Darcy or her fashion woes.

It was for the children.

So, Darcy, stiff upper lip and all, bravely donned her Igor getup and white pancake makeup once again, hunched her shoulders, and gamely performed her “evil” scientist laboratory assistant duties (which, frankly, weren’t that far a stretch from her normal job).

_For the children_.

However, this year there was a least one thing to break up the monotony of dressing up as the same fucking character year after year. It was the first halloween Bucky Barnes would be spending as an official, card-carrying Avenger, and consequently his first time participating in the festival. And, while normally a group of morally righteous and kind hearted folks, when it came to halloween, the Avengers and Co. had no qualms about hazing the new guy.

Poor Bucky was cajoled into spending the entire festival dressed as the 1940s comic book version of his former self- red tights, blue booty shorts/jumpsuit combo (that looked straight out of a Gymboree catalog for overgrown toddlers), and little black eye mask. His hair was even trimmed dramatically and styled like the old pen and ink Bucky, thanks to Steve and Natasha somehow convincing the poor man that the children would be upset if he didn’t stay 100% true to the source material.

Darcy made a mental note to never get on the devious duos bad side. Together they were capable of feats of pure evil. She supposed the world was lucky that Cap and Black Widow were on the side of the angels.

 

* * *

At the end of the evening, when the fireworks were over and the last of the kids and their guardians had filed out -ladened with bags of candy and Avengers brand swag of course- the team always threw their own little adults only party at the mansion. It was a good way to blow off steam, in theory at least, but it always seemed to end in a scandal. Last year, it was a twofor- Tony had a hair too much witches brew and “accidentally”groped an indignant, fuming Maria Hill somehow mistaking her for the absent Pepper Potts, and Sam Wilson got into a shouting match with Sharon Carter over the Hobbit movies then made up by playing a vigorous game of tonsil hockey up against the bar (and she didn’t want to _think_ about all the rampant bed swapping and drunken hookups that tended to  occur whenever they all camped out under one roof).

And as fun as all that was, Darcy was not in the mood for that particular brand of festivities. She’d catch back up at the next party; thanksgiving usually brought out the juicier drama anyway. So, she grabbed the small stash of candy she squirreled away earlier and ducked out, fully intending to spend the rest of the night alone sprawled out on her bed watching ironically hilarious B horror films and eating sugar until sleep or diabetic coma claimed her. Whichever came first.

While dodging a particularly festive Tony Stark on her way to her guest room, Darcy stumbled across a wide-eyed ex-assassin slumped against a giant pumpkin near the back porch, looking exhausted, haunted and more than a little disheveled. Bucky had the far away, chilling thousand yard stare of a POW, which clashed almost comically with his very camp costume. She approached with caution, careful to make her footsteps loud so she wouldn't startle him.

“You okay there, soldier?” she asked, flashing him a hesitant smile. He shot her an odd look, taking in Darcy’s strange appearance. She was still dressed as Igor and wearing those cheesy, bug-eyed glasses.

“So many children…” Bucky muttered, shuddering and hugging his arms to his chest. Darcy laughed, and he actually cracked a smile in return.

“Yeah, it was pretty crowded this year. Probably pretty overwhelming for your first time.” She gave him a commiserating pat on the shoulder. Darcy knew she and Jane got off relatively easy when it came to the crowds. While charming and eccentrically lovable (and infinitely more relatable), the two women couldn’t hold a candle to the actual supers, especially when kids were involved. She could only imagine what the generally reticent Bucky had gone through during the day.

He hummed in response, tugging the eye mask down to hang around his neck so he could scrub a hand tiredly at his brow. Darcy caught herself staring a bit too intently at his face and was suddenly glad her eyes were obscured by her novelty glasses. The new hair cut did amazing things for the sharp angles of Bucky’s face, and the slightly mussed-look from working all day made him look like a sexy Errol Flynn. She forced herself to keep talking so, at the very least, her ogling wouldn’t be accompanied by a painfully awkward silence.

“Personally, I find it's the parents that are the hardest to deal with though. Don't get me wrong, most of them are _great,_ but the ones that aren't…” she trailed off, not wanting to be too harsh. As annoying as some may be, those _were_ parents of sick kids she was talking about.

“Tell me about it. You wanna know how many of those mothers tried to pinch my ass today?”

“Well, you _were_ sort of asking for it, wearing those short shorts,” Darcy teased, cackling madly at the mutinous glare she received.

“Way to blame the victim, Lewis,” he grumbled, trying and failing to fight off a smile. “Shouldn't you be off getting dolled up for the party anyway?”

“Nah, I'm not feeling it this year. Gotta date with some Reese’s Cups and the obscenely large tv in my guest room.” Darcy held up her bag of goodies and gave it a shake, jostling the candy. “What about you?”

Bucky sighed heavily, grin vanishing from his handsome face. “Steve’s makin’ me go. I only just lost him, but he's stubborn enough to hunt me down and drag me to the party by the tights.”

He sounded so defeated that Darcy didn’t even hesitate to invite him to her little anti-party. “Wanna hide out with me? I got shitty movies and we can liberate some of Tony’s fancy scotch from the liquor cabinet. Might even be persuaded to share my candy with you.” She finished with a saucy wink and a jaunty shimmy of her shoulders that brought the care-free smirk back to Bucky’s lips. He gave her a playful nudge.

“Dunno Sweetheart, the gang’ll be sure to miss me. As an Avenger, I am expected to keep up appearances,” Bucky paused, tapping a metal finger to his chin in faux contemplation. “... you got any peanut M&Ms in that bag?”

“Maybe I do,” she teased and gave him a shove right back. “C’mon. Walk this way,” she called, hunching her shoulders and limping up the steps to the mansion’s back door, utterly unable to resist the gag. Darcy turned to beckon him to follow, but Bucky just looked up at her like she had lost her marbles. She frowned.

“You havin’ some trouble there, Darce?”

 **  
** “Oh come on! Marty Feldman? _Igor_ _?_ ...no? Goddamnit, why does nobody get my references!”


	2. Part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy shows Bucky "Young Frankenstein" and together they turn a frustrating day into a rather splendid night.

Darcy and Bucky split up to go change out of their costumes after agreeing to reconvene back at her room. She had just finished scrubbing the layers of white make-up off and returning her regular glasses to her face, and was in the process of throwing on her comfy, flannel, polar-bear pajamas when a frantic series of knocks at her door made her jump.

“Holy shit, calm down! I’m coming, I’m coming,” She cursed, nearly stubbing her toe on the dresser while pulling up the pajama pants.

Once fully clothed, Darcy swung the door open only to be grabbed by a clearly agitated, still costumed Bucky as he bolted inside and quickly shut and locked the door before she even a chance to say “what the hell?’. He shushed her attempts at questions but said nothing, just stood statue still, arms hooked tight around the petite woman, and listened to something out in the hall that was too quiet for normal human ears. Pressed up against his chest, she could hear his heart beating wildly and his breathing hard.

She wonderful briefly if she should be frightened. It was well within the realm of possibility that Hydra or another enemy had decided to attack while all the Avengers were gathered in one place. But then Bucky sagged, leaning heavily against the closed door with a relieved sigh.

“Should I even ask?” Darcy had to crane her neck back, trapped as she was in his iron grip, to shoot him a bemused look. He released her with a little self deprecating laugh.

“Nat caught me on the way to my room,” he explained, raking a hand through his already messy hair. The last remaining tendrils still held back with gel finally gave up the ghost and flopped limply over his forehead and into his face. “Had to shake her loose. Luckily, her costume slowed her down. Say what you want about the tights, but they’re easier to run in than that weird fishtail monstrosity that she was wearing.”

“She’s not a fish, she’s Ariel.” Bucky’s face reflected zero percent recognition and she huffed. “You know, _The Little Mermaid_? Seriously, you’ve been awake for more than 2 years now and no one's made you watch The Little Mermaid either? You have terrible friends, man.”

“You can say that again.” He smirked, quirking his brow up and gesturing to his outfit.

Darcy’s eyes followed and _wandered_ , completely of their own accord, taking in the wide set of his shoulders, down to the belt cinched in at his narrow waist and catching at the thick, well-defined muscles of his thighs. Those tights really didn’t leave much to the imagination. And it sure didn’t help that due to that ambush bearhug, she now knew that he smelled like leather and cardamom and a subtle sort of musk that drove her animal hindbrain crazy.

“So, I’m guessing this means the liquor cabinet reappropriation is out of the picture now huh?” she asked, desperate to get her traitorous mind off the matter of Bucky’s body. Even though she had to admit it was rapidly becoming one of her favorite subjects.

“‘Fraid so, darling,” he replied, meeting her gaze. A fleeting, wistful look flashed in his eyes which made Darcy fleetingly suspect that maybe hers weren’t the only ones wandering.

She was suddenly very conscious of the cool temperature of the room and the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her pajama top. It took a huge chunk of her willpower to resist the instinct to cross her arms conservatively across her chest, in the fear that the action would only serve to draw attention to the embarrassing truth that her breasts were um... _standing at attention_.

There was a beat, an odd few seconds where they were each sure the other had caught them red-handed, but really just amounted to a nervous staring contest that neither knew the stakes for.

Finally, _mercifully_ , Bucky cleared his throat. “We could uh… try a reconnaissance mission later, but it’s best to lie low for the time being. Unless you want to risk being dragged to that party. Pretty sure I heard Stark setting up to DJ.”

“Oh god, no… Well, what can ya do?” She shrugged. Maybe adding alcohol to this already charged situation wouldn’t have been such a good idea anyway.

Darcy retreated further into her room to fiddle with the controls for the tv, grateful to have an excuse to turn her back so she could compose herself before spending the next two or so hours sharing personal space with the undeniably handsome- and no doubt utterly unsuspecting- subject of her most salacious fantasies.

_Oh wow, was this a bad idea. What the hell was she thinking inviting this man back to her room alone?_

“So, uh yeah… movies,” she turned back around and clapped her hands together lamely. “You’ve seen the old, classic monster movies right? With Karloff and Lugosi?”

“Weren’t too old or classic back in my day, but sure. Some of them at least,” he let out a quiet chuckle, eyes bright with a nostalgic gleam. “Remember taking a girl to see The Wolf Man once. She clung to my arm the entire time.”

“Smooth operator,” Darcy snorted at the lingering look of pride on Bucky’s face. “ _Young Frankenstein_ is sort of an homage to those Universal monster movies. But it’s definitely a classic in its own right too. And hilarious.”

She could feel a giddy excitement welling up as she pulled up the on-demand movie service with the TV remote and found what she was looking for. There was was something wonderfully fun, almost nerve-wracking yet delightfully so, about introducing someone new to a beloved movie- like she was sharing a bit of herself in the process. It was oddly intimate, though the trust and genuine affection she held towards Bucky made it feel safe, natural. Darcy was sure she was grinning like a moron, but he was smiling right back and that made her chest feel strange in a pleasant, fuzzy sort of way.

“You really like this movie, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded sincerely. “My grandma and I used to watch it every year.” It was Darcy’s turn to get all sentimental about the past. Her childhood was hardly a shining beacon of happy fun times, so she tended to cling fiercely to those rare, safe, cheerful memories that were all she had left of the woman who raised her.

Bucky must have picked up on her sudden bout of yearning nostalgia because he reached out and gave Darcy’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Thanks for sharing it with me, Darcy.”

Seeing as there was no way it would’ve been humanly possible for Darcy to continue on without doing so, she slipped her arms around Bucky’s waist and drew him in for a sweet hug. A soft laugh rumbled in his chest as he returned it, wrapping his arms tightly around her and pressing his cheek to the top of her head. When the moment started bordering on too long and a tad too tender to strictly be considered _friendly_ and the lingering self-doubt monster started to rear its ugly head, Darcy wriggled away and flashed him an almost bashful smile.

“Of course, Buck,” she finally said, and then added: “Someone had to pick up the slack of whatever wet blanket was supposed to bring you back up to speed on the 21st century.” Because Darcy was positively incapable of letting a sweet moment pass without shoving her entire foot in her mouth at least once. She grimaced at the urge to facepalm.

“Shoulda hired you then, toots.” With that and a casual wink, Bucky kicked off his shiny red costume boots and invited himself to lounge lazily on the bed, a move that left Darcy momentarily speechless. “You just gonna stand there, or are watching a movie?”

* * *

 It was _nice_ , sitting together and laughing at the genius that was a Mel Brooks-Gene Wilder colab, taking turns picking through the stash of candy to find their favorites. Once the movie was playing and the nerves had started to wear off, Darcy found herself watching him just about as much as she was watching the screen. He laughed at all the right places - a carefree, infectious noise that made her laugh more than the movie itself. It really could not have turned out better if Darcy had planned it.

The movie proved to be funny and interesting enough to draw the attention away from the mutual attraction that had bubbled up earlier, though it definitely was still idling below the surface like an insistent car engine (all “motor-running” puns very much intended).

When the credits started to roll, after the two new happy couples both found the “sweet mystery of life” and the joys of an ample _schwanzstucker_ , Bucky turned and flashed Darcy a rakish grin in the low flickering light of the television.

“That was something else,” he said, chuckling a little to himself.

“You liked it?” Darcy beamed back, scrambling to her knees in her excitement. He nodded and popped another licorice bite into his mouth. She couldn’t stand licorice and throughout the movie had taken to throwing the offending candy at him whenever she came across it.

There was a beat, a moment that threatened to turn awkward, and Darcy couldn’t stop herself from blurting something, anything out to avoid the looming silence. “So, Sergeant Barnes, you think it's safe to raid the booze yet? I’ve got more movies too, you know, if you’d like. Managed to get my hands on a copy of Mansquito.”

During her newest ramble, Bucky shook his head, a fond but exasperated look on his face before he leaned forward and planted a kiss right on those plump lips Darcy had a habit of flapping too much.

_Nothing_ had ever shut her up so fast.

Darcy’s brain sort of short circuited for a second, but her body luckily seized the reins and pressed itself into the kiss while her head caught up. Boldly, she opened her mouth under Bucky’s and drew him in, savoring his resulting groan. He tasted like licorice and cheap chocolate, her new favorite combination, and did this rolling move with his tongue that woke up a deep, electric desire in her belly. It was enough to make a girl melt, and she had to wrap her arms firmly around his neck to keep from sliding into the bed in puddle of Darcy-goo.

Then large hand slipped down to palm at her breast and it was too much. Darcy tore away with a shuddering little whimper. Her head was spinning and she was pretty sure her lungs had actually forgotten to breathe there for a good while.

Bucky immediately straightened, looking down at his hand still cupping her like it had a will of its own before snatching it back like her skin had scalded him. “Darcy, I'm so sorry. I thought-”

She cut him off with a quick peck to the lips, which turned into a longer series of hot, searching kisses until Darcy finally had to pull away again or risk forgetting the very important response she owed him. “Please don’t be sorry. Because I kinda want to keep kissing you until my face falls off.”

He huffed out a laugh and rested his hands on Darcy’s waist as she moved to straddle his hips. “In that case, I gotta question I’d like to ask first. You know, while that pretty face is still attached and everything.”

“If you must,” she acknowledged with an overly dramatic eye-roll, followed by a very distracting kiss pressed to the underside of his jaw. He swallowed thickly and Darcy, delighted by this new power she found she had over the remarkably powerful hero, decided press further. Bucky could almost see his own nerves snapping away with each subsequent kiss the maddening woman on his lap trailed down his throat.

“Can I take you out? Like on a proper date, you all dressed up and me _not_ wearing pantyhose,” he finally managed breathlessly.

Darcy laughed, her entire body shaking with poorly contained mirth. She hid her face in her shoulder until she could speak again. “You askin’ me to go steady, soldier?” she quipped, something bright and downright sinful shining her eyes.

Bucky shrugged, his lips quirking into a lopsided smirk.“‘Til someone better comes along,” he teased.

Darcy’s eyes narrowed with an indignant gasp. She was smiling, but then she was also trying to hit him upside the head. Bucky grabbed each of her wrists, foiling her attack, and sweetly kissed her hands as an apology of sorts for his wisecrack. “Was only a joke, Darce.”

“Uh huh, yeah, well you’d be waiting a long ass time for someone better than me James Barnes.” She wrestled her hands free so she could primly rest her fists on her hips and level Bucky with a judging glare, but the effect was somewhat muted by the fact that she was sitting astride him with lips still swollen from his kiss.

“Probably forever,” he mused. Darcy snorted.

“Such a dork…” she muttered fondly.

“That a yes?” he wheedled. A warm hand snaked under her pajama top and started to gently rub the soft skin of her lower back. Darcy shivered despite the heat surging through the simple touch.

“Hmmm,” she pretended to mull it over for moment before bending down and gripping his expectant face and letting a hot, lingering kiss be her response. “That answer enough for you?”

“I don’t know. You better give it to me again, just to be clear.”

“ _Dork,_ ” she breathed, but met his smart, smirking lips in another kiss all the same.

This time no one pulled away. Not until they had traded places, Bucky pressing Darcy into the mattress, hands wandering and catching on irksome clothing as the kiss turned into something more. She had unbuckled his belt and tossed it across the room, and was trying to figure out how the maddening buttons on his costume worked when Bucky suddenly stopped.

“Wait,” he croaked, voice rough with arousal. Darcy blinked up at him, confused. His metal hand gently plucked hers from his clothes and guided them to rest around his shoulders instead. “Not tonight. Not _yet_.”

“What?” she looked so _tempting,_ all rumpled and flushed and staring at him like she was starving and he was dinner. Bucky had to close his eyes and picture Wilson's ugly mug to keep himself from sinking back into her addictive embrace.

“I don't want to mess this up before it even gets off the ground.” He tenderly tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Wanna do this right and take our time. Not rush or push too far too soon.”

“That's uh, yeah,” Darcy paused and licked her lips unconsciously. Bucky had to hold back a groan at the sight. “That's probably a good idea.”

“I’m relieved you agree.”

Darcy sighed. Because, while, yes, she did _agree_ and had fallen victim to that whole “jump into bed without a shred of consideration to the consequences and/or any sort of idea what it meant emotionally to either party” trope with disastrous results and heartbreak in the past -her hormone flooded, reward seeking body very much wanted to ignore any sort of agreement and rip his clothes off with teeth. Bucky’s body must have been acting similarly mutinous because he placed a chaste kiss to her forehead and moved to sit about three whole feet away from her on the bed.

They both needed a good minute or two to breathe and will away any lingering uh... _stirrings._

“So, what do we do now?” asked Bucky’s much calmer, regular pitched voice after their little meditation session.

“We could watch another movie,” Darcy suggested with a shrug. It seemed weird to just _ignore_ the now blatant sexual tension, but considering that starting a healthy relationship was significantly more important to her than just essentially scratching an itch, Darcy powered through it. “Ever wanted to see a dude turn into giant sentient mosquito and kill people?”

And since the answer to that question should always be _“yes”_ or you’ve clearly asked the wrong person, they settled back in and watched Mansquito.

Towards the end of the film- a true gem of bad scifi-horror that featured shady government experiments, convict related lab accidents, an awkwardly shoehorned love story, and the memorable line “he’s more mosquito than man now”, Bucky heard a soft little noise from his left and turned to find Darcy fast asleep, cuddling a pillow and snoring lightly. It was heart wrenchingly endearing after watching what could only very loosely (and extremely generously) be considered “a movie.”

Deciding it was best to call it a night, he very slowly extracted himself from the bed, careful not to jostle or wake her, and turned off the giant tv. But she looked so damn cute that as he was leaving, Bucky couldn’t resist leaning down and giving her sleep-warm cheek a chaste kiss goodnight.

Darcy murmured incoherently for moment before blindly patting his own cheek with a floppy hand and whispering an affectionate “‘night dork”. He could _just_ make out a sleepy smile gracing her face in the darkness and it made his stomach leap and his heart feel a bit too big in his chest.

* * *

On his way back to his guest room, Bucky felt a warm, deep contentedness spread pleasantly through him, settling into his marrow. Darcy, this _thing_ between them, the potential for some actual happiness - he never really let himself _want_ anything like that. Not since the war. Not even since getting his head screwed back on straight and joining the Avengers. But now he was almost overcome with _want._ And it wasn’t as painful or hard as he had convinced himself.

Not when it was about her. And, who knew, maybe she wanted the same things too. She did agree to go on a date with his sorry ass. And she had kissed him back. Enthusiastically.

He could still feel the warmth of her skin, the tantalizing slopes of her curves under his hands, the soft fullness of her lips… Bucky was going to be having sweet dreams tonight.

While his day was a mixture of exhaustion, indignity, and small, sticky, grabby hands, the night could not have possibly gone better.

A fact the universe felt obliged to prove for him judging by what he found slumped in the hallway outside his door.

Steve Rogers - Captain America, The First Avenger, paragon of virtue and The American Way ™ - was rather unsteadily, propped up against the wall, leaning alarmingly to one side like he was fighting gravity on sinking ship, clearly _hammered_ and wearing what appeared to be the seashell bra top of Natasha’s costume and his boxer briefs. And _nothing else_.

“What happened, buddy?” Bucky asked, nearly pulling a muscle trying to keep from laughing.

“ _Thor,_ ” Steve sighed and thrust an engraved, silver flask at his friend. Bucky’s nostrils burned from the potent smell of Asgardian liquor.

“And the get-up?”

“ _Tasha,”_ he groaned. Bucky laughed, seams finally bursting, and threw a supportive arm around Steve to help guide him off the wall.

“Karmas a bitch, hey Rogers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might of had too much fun writing this second part. You guys should really be more careful with what you ask for...
> 
> Also, I'm think about extending this silly little verse, like an exploration of this relationship through different holidays. I don't know for sure yet. What do you guys think?
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting! It's hard to put into words just how much all that means to me. I adore you all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I might make a follow up to this one. The old comic book Bucky costume is now an endless source of inspiration and amusement for me.


End file.
